Curves

I have a curvy body.

It’s always been curvy, ever since I was in grade school wearing a D-cup bra in 7th grade.

My body is far from perfect.

I will never give Heidi Klum or Kate Upton a run for their money.

And I’m okay with that.

After YEARS of hating my body and trying to diet and exercise it into a mainstream shape, I’ve given up.

The downside to not having a perfect body is that I don’t look good from all angles.

The upside is, I gave away my last fuck years ago.

I will get naked and jump in a hot tub along with the rest of the crowd, heedless of who is looking at my naked body.

I want to have fun and I don’t want to let anything to get in the way.

Thick thighs?

Got ‘em.

Soft belly?

I’ve got that too.

Cellulite?

Pretty sure there’s acres of it on my backside.

Curvy butt?

I’ve got that in spades!

Ultimately, I think we all just like looking – naked, clothed, perfect, flawed, or whatever.

And every time I feel like I need to look different than how I look, I remind myself of the incredibly hot man who literally scooped me up and carried me off to his bed at Burning Man 2015.

Some guys (really) LIKE IT!

A Cure for Insanity

Oh God.

For a minute I forgot myself and I got back online to see who has been checking me out on Plenty of Fish.

And the answer is MANY MEN.

I had over 30 emails but as I scanned them, none of them were appropriate.

So I poked around a bit and found one guy I liked.

Likes the outdoors?

Check.

Enjoys dogs?

Check.

Likes curvy girls?

No check.

Actually, in his profile he specifically requested “petite” women.

Ha!

So there you have it.

My foray into online dating lasted FIVE WHOLE MINUTES before I came to my senses and closed the browser window.

Sure, I like an athletic guy as much as the next woman, but I also like men sporting the “dad bod.”

Am I the only one out there who thinks that all bodies are beautiful?

I suppose if you know your preference is small and petite then it’s best you state that outright in your profile and not waste anyone’s time.

I have a tendency to be attracted to big tall “lumberjack” men.

But I don’t put that in my profile because, honestly, personality counts.

Two of my last four boyfriends have been anti-type.

All this goes to say that it took less than five minutes for me to realize why I got off internet dating in the first place.

Want to know the cure for insanity?

Five minutes on Plenty of Fish.

Still creepy

Years ago, I met a guy at Double D’s in Los Gatos.

We went on a date but he reminded me of one of my creepy ex-boyfriends and so I declined another date with him.

Two years later, he asked me out again and I, forgetting how creepy I found him the first time, agreed to a date.

After our second date, we went to his place to sample some high-end wines he had in his wine cellar.

He took me on a tour of his home and showed me a special bedroom.

I know what you’re thinking.

Was it like the red room in Fifty Shades?

The answer is no.

No BDSM toys.

However. . .

He had converted a spare bedroom into a grow room for marijuana.

OMG.

I have never seen such bright light and greenery.

He pulled out a HUGE mason jar that was filled with buds.

Holy shit!

It was wild!

In my life, I’ve never seen this much pot.

I wound up leaving his apartment and never seeing him again.

In the end, my good sense got the better of me and I rethought the wisdom of getting involved with someone who (at the time) participated in an illegal activity for his livelihood.

Still creepy.

Now criminal.

No thank you.

Ch.. ch.. ch.. changes

My birthmom is moving away.

To Oregon.

She and my step-father have built a brand new home and will be moving in around June 19th.

I had no idea that this was going to happen so soon!

And let me tell you, I’m a little bit worried about having her so far away from me.

For the last twenty two years, she’s been no more than a 2 hour drive away from me.

Now she’ll be a 2 hour flight away from me.

I’m definitely having feelings about this but what they are, I haven’t a clue.

Sadness.

Anxiety.

How will I see her when she’s 600+ miles away?

Honestly, I never considered how it would feel to lose her.

I’ve been taking her presence for granted.

I haven’t seen her as much as I should have or visited as much as I wanted to.

And she’s always been there for me when I needed her.

Their new home is BEAUTIFUL and it’s selfish of me to want her to stay.

I know I’ll adjust.

I’m just saying, I’ve got FEELINGS about this and they’re not all roses and rainbows.

I feel like I’m being left behind.

And it doesn’t feel good.

Spying eyes

My oldest son spies on me.

I know this because he called me up on the phone the other day to ask where I was.

Normally, I would have been at work.

But on this particular day I left work early to go to the doctor’s office.

“Where are you?” he asked me.

“On the freeway, heading to the doctor’s office,” I replied.

“You don’t have any doctors in that area. . . “ he told me.

“How do you know where I am?” I asked.

“I’m tracking your phone,” he said.

Sigh.

Why my son has suddenly developed an interest in my life, I will never know.

He used my password to log in to Messenger and THEN tried to blackmail me with information he found there.

“Buy me beer or I’ll tell grandma,” he threatened me.

“Go ahead,” I replied. “Grandma already knows.”

So there you have it.

My 18 year old son is spying on me so that he can blackmail me to buy him beer.

It may be time to change all my passwords.

Vegas, baby!

I’ve been to Vegas three times.

For all three trips I was with ex-boyfriends.

The first time, ex-bf #1 and I were all hot and heavy and made love all weekend long.

There was a SMALL snafu with that electrical cock ring, but overall the weekend was marked with nothing but pleasure – for food, cocktails, and each other.

The second time we went he and I were weeks away from breaking up and I’m pretty sure I saw it in the stars when I woke up in the middle of the night and found him sitting in a chair, watching me sleep.

It was a much more somber trip to Vegas, that time.

My third trip to Vegas was during a road trip to Arizona.

It was fucking hot and I spent the majority of my time trying to find another couple to have fun with.

We wound up taking in the Titanic display.

It was definitely not a sexy weekend.

Lately, I’ve been thinking I want to go to Vegas again.

Just for a weekend getaway.

Check out The Strip and catch some entertainment.

Day drink.

Watch a show with naked performers.

You know, do all the things that Vegas is famous for.

I’ve never been to Vegas as a “single” woman.

I’ve always been coupled up for my trips.

And seeing as how I think Vegas is more fun when you go with friends, I would want to take my sister, Barbara, Yvonne, Marina, and Michelle with me.

Just me and a pile of sexy women having fun in Vegas.

Or The Swede.

Vegas would definitely be fun with The Swede.

Steve and Anthony

When my boys were little, there were two men who helped me through all those sleepless nights – Steve Irwin the Crocodile Hunter and Anthony Bourdain the American Chef.

Late at night, there’s not much TV to watch and so what did I do at 3 am when Duncan or Gavin needed a feeding?

I watched Animal Planet and The Travel Channel.

Quality entertainment at breastfeeding o’clock in the morning.

When Steve Irwin passed away in 2006, I was heartbroken.

It was as if I’d lost an intimate family member, such was my grief.

Now, upon hearing the news of Anthony Bourdain’s suicide, I am filled with the same grief.

Those two men kept me company when I was up all alone, taking care of my boys, trying to get them to go back to sleep so that I could then go back to sleep.

My ex-husband was still sleeping in bed, but Anthony and Steve, they were with me.

I have plumbed the depths of despair myself, when my oldest son passed away from cancer in 1998.

I know what it’s like to feel like the burden you carry is too much to go on.

My heart breaks a little when I think of the suffering that someone must be going through to actually take their own life.

There’s no way to make sense of premature loss from suicide but there is a way to help prevent them.

We need to remove the stigma on mental illness, which is just as rooted in biology and biochemisty as any illness so that people can get the help they need without fear of judgment.

I promise to all my family and friends who love and care for me, that I will always take my mental health seriously, and that I will reach out when I’m not feeling all that great.

I also promise to make myself available at 3 am, when things are rough, and they just need someone to talk them though the night.

Just like Steve and Anthony did for me.

The most flattering picture of me in the known universe

As I creep closer to 50, I find myself struggling harder against the signs of aging.

Perhaps it’s all in vain, but I can’t help myself.

I don’t want to look old before my time.

I want to look young, and firm and smooth!

So I’m getting my melasma removed via a very irritating process known as the Spectra Laser Peel.

It feels like a little electrical ZAP! going on right next to your skin and it’s hella annoying.

And by annoying, I mean slap-your-esthetician-annoying.

I have to lay on my hands to keep myself from swatting her hands away.

In any case, they first put a black carbon solution on your face like a mask which they then ZAP! away.

The nurse left the room after applying the mask and out of curiosity, I snapped a picture of what I looked like in the carbon mask.

And, as it turns out, I took the most flattering picture of me in the known universe:

And I’m just wondering, perhaps if I put this as my online dating profile picture, I’ll get some decent dates?

Nothing is sexier than a woman laying on a table, with a carbon mask on her face, eh?

Beggars can’t be choosers

Like all women, I am enthralled with firemen.

Honestly, they all seem to be so brawny and handsome, they take my breath away in their sexy uniforms.

Give me a 45 – 55 year old man in boots, a tight navy blue t-shirt and bulging biceps and call me a happy girl!

The best part of firemen is not that they are so handsome and strong, though.

It’s that they tend to travel in packs.

So you get six for the price of one.

It renders me mute!

Man, I love me some firemen.

Men with hero complexes in general are very sexy.

Paramedics.

EMTs.

Search & Rescue.

Military men.

And while I am a strong and capable woman, I’m sorely tempted to pretend to need rescue just to engage them.

I went out with a fireman.

Once.

Once was all it took.

He spent the entire time talking about himself and I swear, if he knew my name or what I did for a living at the end of the date, I’D BE SHOCKED!

His profile still pops up on dating websites.

They guy is still single.

Go figure.

But I think he’s the exception to the rule and his self-absorbed behavior still hasn’t turned me off to the utter and total sexiness of firemen.

All this is to say, since I’ve been working on finding paramedics to cover the summer campout, I’ve been flush with paramedics, EMTs and firemen.

They’re coming out of the woodwork.

Much to my pleasure!

Beggars can’t be choosers!

The Swede and I

Okay.

So The Swede is coming to Burning Man.

So far.

That MIGHT change, but for now, it’s still in the stars.

And in order to prep myself to go to the playa, the land of temptation and pleasure, with someone I’m dating, I really want to read more about playa relationships.

Specifically, there was an article that was circulated around in 2015 – my virgin year – which outlined the stresses relationships go through on the playa and how to deal with those stresses, which I am trying to locate.

Without any luck.

That’s right.

I can find a fucking lavender and teal ombre party dress on the internet, but I can’t find this article, which I recall was fairly substantial.

So, considering the knowledge out there that all my burner friends have, what are your top tips on how to manage a relationship at the burn?

I mean obviously there’s “Make sure each of you has alone time.”

And “Communicate. Communicate. Communicate.”

But there’s got to be more to it than alone time and communication.

What do I do if he asks to go to the Orgy Dome?

How do I greet my friends if I can’t kiss them?

How do I politely ask him to get naked with me and go to the Saunadome?

How do I make sure I respect his boundaries during the burn?

And so many more questions!

So help me out and give me your suggestions.

I’d love to hear some ideas on how to manage a relationship on playa by someone who has actually done just that.